The Fire Rises
by diceandpokerchips
Summary: Written for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Rated M for language. Bane/Blake.
1. Holding Hands

**Written for the 30 Day OTP Challenge.**

**Day One: Holding Hands**

* * *

Once, Bane's size would have terrified John.

To be honest, Bane's size once did terrify him. At six foot tall, Bane only had three inches on him, but his bulk… Bane was made to crush mountains. It was, therefore, surprising to John how gentle the man could be.

It wasn't common knowledge. The fact that Bane was still alive at all wasn't common knowledge. Only a select few people knew. Commissioner Gordon knew, of course, as did Lucius Fox, main shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. Although John wasn't sure how the latter knew, but he'd turned up at John's apartment one day with an armband that had the same functionality as Bane's mask, negating Bane's need to wear the contraption.

It had taken time, but eventually Bane had relented, and opted to try it, removing the mask completely. If John had burnt the thing afterwards, well who was to know?

The first time John had seen his lover without the mask, he was relieved. There was severe scarring from the prison doctor's failed attempts to rectify the damage, but nothing nearly as severe as he had imagined. Nothing that would really draw attention to Bane. But the biggest transformation was that, without the mask, Bane looked a lot less dangerous.

"You look lost in your thoughts, little bird." Bane spoke slowly. He was still growing used to hearing his voice without the mechanical distortion of the mask.

John looked up from his plate. "Just thinking about everything that led up to this." He smiled. "Who knew that kidnapping me would be your downfall?"

"Not my downfall." Bane corrected, immediately. "More a change in perspective. Talia was my downfall. You were my saviour."

He reached across the table for John's hand, who set down his fork in order to grasp his lover's rough palm. His fingertips nudged at the armband, and he held his breath, but Bane didn't so much as flinch. Instead, John watched him reach out across the table with his other arm, in order to clasp John's tightly.

"Perhaps," Bane hesitated, "we might take a walk, if you are finished eating?" He gestured at John's plate. Curious as to his motives,

John nodded his agreement. Bane had refused to leave the apartment since he'd arrived, on the day Talia had died. If he was actually choosing to go out, then John wouldn't object.

Bane rose to fetch their coats as John cleared away his plate. It was cold out, and so Bane returned with not only their coats, but a scarf for John and a hat for himself. John picked up the hat, questioningly.

"I have a distinctive appearance, little bird. The hat is to help disguise me."

"You're presumed dead." John told him for what felt like the millionth time.

"Exactly." Bane agreed. "It would not do for someone to recognise me now, especially in the company of one of Gotham's ex-detectives."

John nodded, seeing Bane's logic, although he didn't think anyone would be looking for Bane in Gotham.

They left the apartment, John hanging back in order to allow his lover to lead the way, assuming he had somewhere in mind. To his surprise, Bane began leading them to the centre of the city. John followed. When they reached the main streets, the ex-detective felt a warm hand slide into his own. When he looked up, however, Bane's eyes were fixed firmly ahead. Repressing a smile, John interlocked their fingers, sighing at the contact.

"You know, if all you wanted was to walk around with me like a normal couple, you only had to say." John pointed out.

Bane looked at him. "I wasn't sure it would be possible. I am on Gotham's most wanted."

"Sooner or later, we're going to have to try living a normal life." John told him. "You can't keep holding on to the wanted-terrorist thing forever."

Bane nodded. "You must give me time, little bird."

John sighed. "Whatever you need."

He stopped and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to Bane's lips, appreciating the softness. He could never get enough of kissing him, after the long months of being prohibited by the mask. Bane smiled, and gestured for them to keep walking. The feel of Bane's hand in his own gave John hope, that maybe one day he and Bane could move on from the ghosts which still haunted them. For now, this was enough.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Day Two: Cuddling Somewhere**

* * *

"For the last time, this is merely a sentencing hearing. Your guilt has been pre-determined." Crane snapped, exasperatedly.

"And no chance for appeal, I suppose." Blake rolled his eyes. "Where's Bane? I guarantee he won't be happy about this."

"Bane has no jurisdiction here, nor would he interfere for the sake of a Gotham police officer. So, Officer John Blake…"

John straightened up proudly. "Detective Blake, actually, if you don't mind." He said coldly. If he was going to die, he was going out as one of Gotham's detectives, someone who had actually made a difference when everyone else had panicked and turned Gotham into turmoil.

"Detective Blake, whatever. You have two choices. Death or exile?"

John blinked. "You expect me to just abandon my city?" He stood up, stiff and proud. "I have faith in Batman and I would die before I abandon Gotham."

"Excellent." Jonathan Crane grinned. "Death it is. By exile." He gestured out towards the ice.

John strode forward, although his fear was great. His left foot slid onto the ice, hesitantly. He knew that within a few paces, it would be too thin to hold his weight. There were worse ways to go, he reflected, and he'd stalled long enough that maybe Commissioner Gordon or Bruce would have seen his sacrifice, and would understand that his loyalty was to them, regardless of who he'd lost his heart to.

He took another unsteady step, his hands braced in case he slipped. His eyes closed for a moment, as his thoughts turned to Bane. He'd never intended to fall for the man who was terrorising his city, but things had changed. Bane had saved his life. Barsad had cornered him, and John had been defenceless to stop it. He'd been beaten severely, and still stood to fight. He'd met Barsad's eyes and had been fully prepared to die, when Bane had stopped his lieutenant from shooting him.

Bane had never told John why he'd saved him, other than there was a fire in his eyes that Bane had only ever seen once before, long ago. He'd spared John's life, and nursed him back to health personally, with more tenderness than seemed possible. Over time, John began to see that there was more to Bane than the terrorist that everyone saw. The man was huge, but so was his heart. It was out of love that he was willing to destroy Gotham.

By the time John's injuries had cleared up, he'd fallen completely for Bane. Sure that Bane felt the same, he told him of his feelings. The bigger man had said nothing, except to tell John he was free to return to active duty whenever he saw fit. After that, Bane stopped coming by his room and actively avoided John. Blake had left a few days later. Even though he was in love with Bane, he had always intended to leave. His loyalty was to his city, torn though he was, there was never a choice.

The ice splintered beneath his feet and John froze, desperately trying to balance his weight. If this was his time, he had no regrets, except that he hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to Bane, thanked him for saving his life.

A shout from behind made him lose his concentration. He turned around slowly, to see the very person he'd been thinking about at the end of the ice. He sighed in relief. He was under no false illusions that Bane would save him a second time, particularly not in front of the court. It would undermine everything he stood for. Bane was supposed to have no power at these hearings. For him to demand John's acquittal would cause unrest.

Meeting Bane's eyes, John paused, to nod once. It was the most he could bear to do. He took a final step backwards, feeling the ice give way beneath his feet. He fell, Bane's mask the last thing he saw.

It was colder than he thought. His skin burned everywhere, a sharp, stinging pain. The temperature of the water took his breath away, filling his lungs, choking him, suffocating him. A huge crash vibrated around him, and he was being dragged away. Suddenly, there was air.

John was hauled out of the water by the scruff of his neck. He coughed, trying not to cry out as the cold air hit him. He rolled over and vomited the water he'd swallowed.

"C…cold…" He shivered, his eyes blurry with the water. He felt something heavy drape around him, like a blanket. His rubbed this eyes and forced them open, finding Bane staring at him with something akin to anger, with a soaking wet Barsad next to him, currently drying himself and changing into dry clothes. John looked around and found that what he thought was a blanket had actually been Bane's coat. The ice where he'd first stepped onto was broken, and there was another hole further up where he'd fell. It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened.

John shivered. The coat was thick, but it wasn't doing enough to restore his body heat. Bane noticed and pulled John closer, wrapping his bulky arms around the detective.

"You are foolish." Bane told him, angrily.

John shrugged,. "I would die before I betray Gotham. My death would be a small price to pay if it would make the slightest difference." He told Bane, his teeth chattering, but he couldn't help but wrap his arms around Bane, leaning into the warmth.

"It would make all the difference." Bane told him. "I didn't save your life for you to throw it away."

"So why did you save me?" John snapped. "You don't care about me, so why does it bother you so much?"

Bane blinked, the only sign of his surprise. "You think I do not care about you?"

"If you did, you wouldn't have rejected me and let me leave." John said stubbornly, wrapping the coat further around himself.

"Perhaps I let you leave for the same reason you wanted to leave. Because my feelings for you must take second place to the cause I stand for. Can you not say the same?"

Before John could speak, Bane scooped him up, ensuring the coat would still preserve a little warmth. "You must warm up before a chill sets in. I will take you home."

"Which home?" John asked, quietly.

Bane's eyes softened, and he rested his forehead against John's for a brief moment, John supposed it was Bane's way of kissing him, but he lost his train of thought at Bane's next words. "Whichever home you wish, little bird."


	3. Watching A Movie

**Day Three: Gaming/Watching A Movie**

* * *

John curled up on his sofa, a bowl of popcorn next to him and a soda in his hand. This was his only day off in the last fortnight and he intended to spend it relaxing. Bane had promised to drop by, but it would be quite late, so John decided to get comfortable and watch a movie.

His movie of choice for the night was The Green Mile. It was one of his favourites and he hadn't seen it in a while. Cleaning up Gotham after the destruction Bane and Talia had caused had taken up most of his time, and maintaining his secret relationship with the most wanted man in the city took up the rest of it. This was the first night in a long time where John had to do nothing except relax.

Remote control in hand, the detective sat back and pressed play. Almost immediately, there was a knock at his door. He shook his head, disbelievingly. It was too early to be Bane, the man only ever arrived in the dark, so it had be Commissioner Gordon. He groaned to himself. This was his only night off. Pausing the movie and setting down his soda, John opened the door.

"Bane." He said in surprise. "You're earlier than I thought. It's not even dark yet."

Bane inclined his head. "The streets were quiet. I thought it might give us more time. Unless you had another plans?"

John shook his head quickly. "No, of course not. Come in." He stepped aside, allowing the larger man to enter his apartment. Bane spotted the paused movie and made a beeline for the television.

"You were watching something?"

John nodded and handed him the DVD case. "The Green Mile. It's one of my favourite movies. Have you…?"

"Films were not part of my training. I have never seen one." Bane admitted, glancing at the case. He settled down on the sofa next to where John had been sitting. John came and sat next to him.

"Well, this is a good place to start. It's about the Death Row prison guards facing a dilemma when they realise one of their prisoners his this unusual gift. It's very sad, but utterly fantastic." John explained. "Do you want to watch it? I can turn it off."

Bane stopped him reaching for the remote control. "I will watch it with you. I'm intrigued."

John started the film and sat back against the sofa. He wanted to curl up against Bane, but his lover hated to be surprised, and didn't like to be touched unless he had plenty of warning, so John sat awkwardly, making sure there was a reasonable distance between them. He was surprised, therefore, when Bane reached out and tugged him closer, his muscled arms snaking around John's torso. Satisfied, John rested his head against Bane's chest and started to watch the movie, eager for Bane's reaction.

He was silent for the most part. John wasn't sure he was actually paying attention, until Eduard Delacroix's execution. Bane tensed and let out a gasp. John concealed his smile and kept his eyes fixed on the screen. When at last it came to the final execution, when Paul Edgecombe had tears in his eyes and in a shaky voice ordered John Coffey's death, John felt two drops of water land on his head. He pretended not to notice, his own eyes filled with tears.

When the film was over, even though the remote control was within reach, John stood up to turn it off, rolling his neck and shoulders from sitting still for so long.

"What did you think?" He asked Bane, tentatively.

Bane frowned thoughtfully. "I very much enjoyed the experience. Do you watch these films often?"

John smiled. "Whenever I get a day off. Which isn't often enough at the minute." He headed into the kitchen, suddenly hungry. "I was going to make dinner now, did you want something?"

The reply was late in coming, so John stuck his head back in the living room to see what Bane was doing, and found him channel flicking. Smiling, John began chopping enough vegetables for two. If Bane didn't want to eat, he would have what was left for his lunch tomorrow. For now, he would let Bane enjoy his recently discovered love of television.


	4. On A Date

**Day Four: On A Date**

* * *

"You wish to go on a date." Bane repeated flatly.

John blushed. "Well, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like that." He mumbled, awkwardly. "But yes. I want us to go on a date, like a normal couple."

"And you would class this as normal." Bane gestured between them. "There is nothing normal about us."

John wasn't convinced. "What's the real issue? That there's nothing normal about us? Or that you think there's nothing normal about you?"

Bane turned away, angrily, although the effect was diminished somewhat by the fact that he was only wearing a pair of shorts. John placed his hand gently on his lover's muscular arms. "Bane." He murmured softly. "I love you. What we have isn't conventional, but it works for us. I don't care what anyone else thinks of you without the mask. I want to spend time with you. You can't stay in the flat forever."

His words gave Bane no comfort.

"You ask too much of me." Bane thundered, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door.

John sighed, and slid into bed alone. He waited up for a while, but he fell asleep long before Bane came out of the bathroom.

The next morning, he was awoken early by Bane shaking his arm, roughly. "John." He whispered. "John, wake up."

"I'm awake." John mumbled, sleepily, sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Half past five." Bane told him.

John groaned. "Too early. What's wrong?"

"Do you still wish to go on a date?" Bane asked, uncertainly. Unable to correlate why he'd been woken up with his desire for a date, John nodded, drowsily. "Then perhaps a compromise can be made?"

John nodded again, not sure where this was going. Bane gestured for him to get dressed. "You are right, of course, I cannot stay in the flat forever, it is too much like being back in the Pit. But I do not wish to contend with people staring at us. So I made us breakfast. I thought we could sit in the park, and there won't be too many people out at this time."

That well and truly caught John's attention as he was throwing on a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He paused to press a kiss to Bane's shoulder, the only part of his body John could reach.

"Thank you." He smiled. "I do appreciate this."

While John slipped on his shoes and jacket, Bane grabbed the bag with their food. The air was crisp at that time of the morning. It was cool, but not cold. Everything was silent; there were few people out of bed at that time, and none of them had any reason to be in the park, so John and Bane had it to themselves.

He had to admit, Bane had been thorough. He'd packed a picnic blanket for them to sit on, and had five different kinds of fruit, fruit juice, a flash of coffee and some cold toast, just the way John liked it.

They stayed in the park, talking softly, watching the sun rise higher in the sky until more people started to walk past. Bane didn't say anything, but John watched him tense. Carefully he brushed the crumbs from his hands and began to pack away the leftovers and the blanket.

"We should get back, I could do with a shower." John smiled. "Bane, I really enjoyed this."

Bane nodded, solemnly. "As did I, little bird. Perhaps we can do it again soon."

He took the backpack from John, slinging it over his shoulder easily, his other hand coming to rest at the small of John's back as they walked home.


	5. Kissing

**Day Five: Kissing**

* * *

Over the course of their relationship, while Gotham was still terrorised by Bane and his men, John and Bane shared four different kisses. Their first kiss was instigated by Bane himself, although John didn't recognise it as such for a long time.

Captured by Barsad, John had expected to meet his end long before the bomb went off. Particularly when he found out that Bane wanted to meet him personally. But everything changed when he first laid eyes on the enormous man.

Over the years, since he was first put into care, John had grown quite skilled at reading people, finding their masks so to speak. It was how he'd immediately known that Bruce was Batman. It was how he knew of Bane's misguided loyalty to Talia, although he didn't actually know who to.

Thrown to his knees at Bane's feet, John spat at Barsad. "I thought you were taking me to see the person in charge."

Bane loomed over him, threateningly, picking John up off the floor. "I _am_ the man in charge."

John shook his head, barking out a laugh. "No, you're not. I can see it in what's visible of your face, in your eyes. The person destroying Gotham is doing it for reasons other than _love_."

Furious, Bane had dealt John a blow to the torso and ordered Barsad to lock him up. A few hours later, the larger man had turned up in his cell to check on his ribs. Luckily, none were broken, just bruised. The detective had been surprised by Bane's tenderness, curious as to why he was helping him. His curiosity and puzzlement grew when Bane returned to visit him every day, eventually ordering that John be moved to his room.

Of course, they had separate beds. There was nothing untoward that went on, particular since John was still entirely suspicious of Bane. They were on separate sides, after all. But over time, as the weeks passed, they grew comfortable with each other's presence. It was when Bane came in, hurt from an attack that things changed.  
John had helped him to the bed, removing his armour and ensuring that he wasn't seriously hurt. Bane had looked at him and asked why he was helping him, when Bane's death would ensure Gotham's survival. Blake shook his head and didn't speak.

Gently, Bane cupped John's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. The contact was fleeting, lasted only seconds before he let go and rolled over to sleep, but it kept John awake for hours wondering what had just happened.

The second time they kissed, John initiated it. Bane hadn't come to their room for almost three days, and he was going out of his mind with worry. None of the guards outside would tell him anything, and even though he was comfortable, he was still a prisoner and couldn't leave. So when Bane eventually returned, unharmed but weary, John had flung himself on the larger man, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

As soon as he'd realised what he had done, John backed away, mumbling excuses and had locked himself in the bathroom. When he eventually came out, Bane was asleep.

Their third kiss was a mutual kiss. It occurred when everything came to a head. Bane arrived in their room one afternoon, and as soon as John looked up from his book, he could see something had changed.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, getting to his feet.

Bane shook his head. "No. Perhaps I should, but I find I cannot." He straightened up. "Detective Blake, everything will end tomorrow. You have been …" He trailed off and shook his head. "The least I can do is offer you a chance to die with your city. But if anyone is to survive this, I hope it is you."

He bowed his head and turned to leave, when John stopped him.

"Wait."

Bane turned back and John crossed the room to him, unsure of what he was doing. He raised his hand slowly, so as not to startle Bane. It would be the last thing he ever did. Cupping Bane's cheek, he gently pulled him forward so John could press a soft kiss to the mask, exactly where Bane's lips would be.

Ignoring the intake of breath, John's eyes fluttered closed, as he imagined that it was Bane's lips he was currently kissing. When he withdrew, Bane's eyes had softened and he had ran his thumb along John's mouth in a way of returning the kiss.

"I will see you again. No matter which side wins." John promised him, before disappearing out of the door.

Their fourth kiss was, to this day, John's favourite. He'd found Bane, injured and bleeding, having managed to crawl into an alley not too far away from where he was shot by the Batpod. He knelt down over Bane, tearing away the mask when he realised that it was suffocating him. Unperturbed by the inflamed puncture marks around Bane's lips, John waited for Bane to start breathing regularly.

"The bomb did not go off." It wasn't a question. John shook his head, regardless.

"And Talia?" Bane pressed. "Miranda." He clarified at John's puzzled look. John shook his head again, and Bane let out a pained cry, which John quickly stifled by covering Bane's mouth with his hand.

"I'm sorry." He apologised. "But people are looking for you." He did a quick scan of Bane's injuries. The armour had protected him well from Selina Kyle's assault, he wasn't too badly injured. "How long until the morphine withdrawal kicks in?"

Bane swallowed. "About thirty minutes." He admitted, then stopped. It was the first time he'd heard himself without the mask for twenty years and his voice was unnerving to him. "John… you cannot be seen with me. Let them catch me."

John shook his head, determinedly. "Absolutely not. Come on, I know this city better than anyone. I can get you out of here. Hopefully the absence of the mask will stop people recognising you."

Bane got to his knees, unsteadily. "Why are you helping me? I destroyed your city. You should let me die."

John knelt down and pressed his lips to Bane's softly. The larger man gasped into his mouth, before responding to the kiss, hesitantly. It took John a few seconds to realise this would be Bane's first actual kiss. He knew of his past. John withdrew slowly, standing up.

"Come on. The Commissioner will have all of Gotham looking for you."

He helped Bane to his feet and they disappeared into the alley, leaving the mess and destruction of Gotham behind them.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Day Six: Wearing Each Other's Clothes**

* * *

It had been three months since John had found Bane again, injured and suffocating in an alley. Tearing away the mask had been difficult, for both of them. For John, it was cutting through the thick material. For Bane, it was losing part of himself. He'd worn the mask for a significant portion of his life. It was that reason that John knew Bane couldn't find it in himself to dispose of it, even though he would never wear it again.

John had talked to Lucius Fox, and come up with a much more inventive solution to the paint that the Pit's doctor had left Bane with. The slight scarring around his mouth, and the huge scars on his back had left him in constant agony, and the only reason Bane could work around it was the reprieve that the morphine in the mask provided him.

But even though Bane was presumed dead, the mask made him far too recognisable. In jeans and a t-shirt, he could walk down the street unnoticed, but with the mask on, he would be seen. The dilemma was great, because Bane needed the mask to be able to walk more than four steps without collapsing.

Which was where Lucius Fox had come in. He'd rigged up a leather bracelet which had exactly the same morphine-administering quality as the mask, only a lot less conspicuous. Nobody would look twice at a wrist accessory when everyone was looking for a masked man in body armour. But even with regular access to morphine, the mask sat on the table on Bane's side of their bed, looking hideous and mocking.

John hated it. But he understood that Bane didn't want to get rid of what had once been a huge part of his life. But he hated the black, menacing contraption, hated the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off it. John couldn't imagine what it must have been like, never being able to take it off without spasms of pain.

Bane always noticed whenever John looked at it, his eyes questioning, but John never offered an explanation, and Bane didn't ask. The ex-detective just accepted that the mask would always be a part of Bane's life.

That changed the first time Bane left the apartment on his own. Well, it wasn't the first time; the larger man had gotten into the habit of taking late night/early morning walks when John was fast asleep, in order to deal with his insomnia. But during the day, Bane rarely ventured outside the apartment they shared without John.

The first time he did, it was because they'd ran out of milk. John was in the shower, and when he got out, Bane would be waiting with a cup of tea, as was their routine. Unfortunately, this time they were out of milk, so Bane stuck his head in the bathroom door to tell John where he was going.

"You don't have to. I can live without tea for one night." John called, making sure his voice could be heard over the powerful spray.

Bane smiled at him, his eyes crinkling, and John wondered how he could have ever used the word 'brutal' to describe Bane, who loved more completely than anyone he knew. "I will not be gone long, little bird."

John nodded in acknowledgement and returned to washing his hair. When he left the shower a few minutes later, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he noticed immediately that Bane wasn't back yet. Grabbing clean underwear out of his drawer, his gaze fell on the mask. He froze, then turned away, pulling on his briefs, followed by a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. When he turned back, he stared at the mask again. He hated it, but he couldn't help his curiosity.

Seeing Bane without the mask every day, Bane could barely remember what the man looked like when he'd worn it. John cast a furtive glance at the door, and then moved closer to the mask. He ran his hand over it, before picking it up for the first times since he'd torn it from Bane's face. It was lighter than he remembered. He walked over to the mirror, slowly, and raised the mask to his face.

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen. His face remained the same, just covered by the material. John held it to his face, careful not to let the needles pierce his skin and stared for a few minutes. He tore his gaze away from his reflection and shook his head. A few seconds later he glanced back up at the mirror and spotted Bane leaning in the doorway, arms folded. He froze.

John had relied on the fact that he would hear Bane coming back in, so he would have enough time to replace the mask. He hadn't even considered the fact that Bane had been trained by the League of Shadows, and managed to sneak in and out every night without disturbing.

He lowered the mask from his face, to give him a few seconds before he had to face Bane's fury. When he turned around, Bane stared at him, unspeaking. He bore no expression, but John could read in his eyes the fury, shock and betrayal. It knocked the wind out of him, and he couldn't speak.

"Trying to see if the mask makes the monster?" Bane asked, at last. His voice was steady, flat, but there was an undercurrent of _something_ there.

John shook his head. "Trying to understand why this is so important to you."

He noticed Bane's surprise and inwardly relaxed. This might not be such a disaster after all.

"Important to me?" Bane repeated, slowly.

John shrugged. "You keep it on your bedside table. I figured it was sentimental. I was just trying to imagine what it must have been like to wear this, twenty four hours a day for nearly twenty years, and then what it must mean to you to keep it after you could eventually take it off."

Bane moved from the doorway, moving over to John slowly, plucking the mask from John's fingers.

"You wish to know why I keep it?" He asked, frowning. "You had only to ask. I keep this monstrosity, not because it is important to me. But because it is not. For twenty years, I was shaped by this mask; initially a medical necessity, it became a symbol of fear, loathing. It defined me. And then you came along, the first person to see what was behind my mask. I kept the mask to remind me that it is who I am with you that is important, not who I was."

John stared at him in disbelief. "I thought maybe it would be something to do with Talia." He admitted.

Bane cupped John's face with his large hand. "Talia was a big part of my life." He agreed. "But she was not good for me. You, little bird, are the most important thing in my life." He pressed their foreheads together, gently. Even though they could kiss now without the mask in the way, it was a habit they'd never grown out of, and John loved it.

"Come." Bane ordered. "I will make us that tea."

He led John into the kitchen, pausing only to drop the mask in their bin, before he busied himself with the kettle. John stared at the bin, feeling an odd emotion flood through his body, leaving him out of sorts. When Bane turned around to place the hot beverage in front of him, John smiled. Maybe Bane was right; the past didn't matter. They should look to their future.


	7. Scary Movie

**Day Seven: Scary Movie**

* * *

"What should we watch tonight?" Bane asked, frowning, as he stirred the pasta.

John added some salt to the pasta sauce he was currently making. "What do you want to watch?" He asked. "There are still lots of genres you haven't seen yet."

"You make the choice, little bird." Bane smiled at him. John returned the smile. It had only been a week since they had watched The Green Mile, Bane's first movie. Ever since then, Bane had developed an interest in watching any and all different types of movies. They watched a new type of movie each night, to ensure the larger man received a thorough film education.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. There's romance, science fiction, horror…" John trailed off.

Bane' brow furrowed as he considered the options John had given him. "Perhaps I will enjoy horror." He said at last, giving the pasta another stir.

John nodded, scooping a spoonful of the tomato sauce, and blowing on it. "Try this, see what you think?"

Bane opened his mouth, obligingly, and tasted the sauce. "It is fine." He stated unenthusiastically.

John rolled his eyes, sighing. "Bane, we've talked about this. You're allowed to say if you don't like it. I don't want you to eat something you don't like."

"It could use a small amount of salt. It was very tangy."

Pleased, John added a small spoonful of salt. Bane never complained about John's cooking unless he was pushed. John had been furious when he realised what Bane was doing. He'd only realised because Bane had taken a mouthful of stew, told John it was fine, and then when John had served it, he realised the meat had gone off.

It had taken for John to lose his temper and get upset before Bane told him the truth. That in the Pit, they hadn't received much food, and they never had a choice of what to eat. It was eat or starve. It was a mentality that had stuck with him, even though food wasn't in short supply any more. Whatever was served to him, Bane would eat it, whether he liked it or not. John had insisted that Bane tell him if there was something wrong with the food, or even if he didn't like it, and he would make something else. The larger man had agreed, but was still hesitant, presumably in case he hurt John's feelings.

After the salt was stirred in, John offered Bane the spoon again. This time, Bane's eyes crinkled as he smiled, nodding his approval. Satisfied, John gestured for his lover to drain the pasta so they could add the sauce.

When their meal was ready, they headed to the living room with their plates, settling down in front of their television. Bane had chosen horror, so Arthur dug through his small collection of horror movies for something half-decent. It wasn't his favourite genre, so he didn't own very many. Mainly just the classics.

"What is that?" Bane asked, gesturing to a DVD, the cover of which adorned a foot.

"Saw?" Blake picked up the box. "It's … difficult to explain. We can watch that if you like."

He slid the disc into the DVD player, and settled back on the sofa, pressing his shoulder against Bane's as he scooped up a forkful of pasta. It was good, even if he did say so himself.

The movie enthralled Bane; that was obvious. He could barely take his eyes off the screen. Of course, he'd been like that about every movie since discovering the delights of cinema, but this one more than the others captured his attention.

About forty five minutes in, John was feeling sufficiently unsettled. He didn't mind horror movies per se, but the abundance of blood and gore in the Saw franchise was enough to make him feel a little creeped out. Recognising how much Bane seemed to be enjoying it, John was reluctant to express his fear and instead began to chew on his nails, nervously.

"Are you okay, John?" Bane spoke up, concerned. John jumped, not realising his nervous shifting had caught his lover's attention.

"Fine." He squeaked. "I'm fine."

Bane smiled at him. "We can turn off the movie, if you'd prefer. You are clearly uncomfortable."

John shook his head, clearing his throat. "I'm not uncomfortable. Just a little scared. It comes with the territory when you watch a scary movie."

Bane nodded, slowly, before wrapping a muscular arm around John, pulling him closer so that John's head was resting on his chest.

"You have nothing to fear, little bird." Bane told him, quietly. "Even if this were real, I would die before I allowed anyone to hurt you."

John smiled into Bane's torso. His lover's protective streak was nothing if not adorable.

"I know." He whispered.

He stayed cuddling into Bane's strong chest, enveloped in his lover's arms for the rest of the movie, and John found that he was no longer scared, for when Bane was with him, there was nothing to be scared of.

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**In the original 30 Day OTP Challenge, this prompt would have been 'cosplaying', but I just can't see any of my OTP's cosplaying, so this, and others have been changed.**


	8. Shopping

**Day Eight: Shopping**

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"It was your fault, you're coming." John said firmly.

Bane looked at him, cocking his head as if to challenge John. They both knew that if Bane decided he wasn't going to go anywhere, then there was nothing John could do to make him. Bane had every advantage: height, muscle, stubbornness; John couldn't make him do anything he didn't want to. As Bane folded his arms, John seemed to recognise this. His jaw clenched.

"Fine!" John snapped. "Stay here then! I'll manage alone; I did before you came along anyway."

He stormed out of his apartment, angrily, regretting his actions as soon as he hit the street, the cold wind giving him chills. John winced, his thin t-shirt offering no protection from the cold. He squared his shoulders and walked towards his car.

"John." Bane called quietly from the door of the apartment.

The ex-detective turned, to see Bane locking the door patiently, John's coat clutched in his arms.

"I will come." Bane consented. "As you said, it was my fault that the bed is broken." He looked at the floor, ashamed.

John shook his head, smiling slightly as he slid his arms into his coat. "It was an accident, Bane, don't worry about it."

Somehow, Bane had managed to slip when coming out of the bathroom and had slammed into their bed, cracking the frame in half. Bane, thankfully, had remained unhurt, but the bed had taken the full force of his weight, and was irreparable.

Their options were limited. They could make do with just a mattress on the floor for now, but it wouldn't do either of them any good, so they decided to just replace the bed frame immediately. It was going to be difficult getting a bed on such short notice,

During the short drive to the store, Bane still looked apologetic. John shook his head, fondly exasperated.

"Look, it had been creaking for a while. We were going to need to get a new one soon anyway." When Bane still didn't look convinced, John tried a different approach. "Besides, a new bed means we need to break it in." He smirked as they pulled into the parking lot outside of the store.

Bane made a predatory sound in the back of his throat, and John inwardly grinned, triumphantly. Of course the thought of sex would distract Bane. He paused when Bane's hand found his knee.

"Do not tempt me, little bird. I would take you now, right here." Bane promised, his eyes darkening.

John couldn't help but shudder, desire flooding through him. He knew Bane would make good on his promise, regardless of who was around to see them. It was one of the things that had drawn him to Bane in the first place. He was dangerous and John had always found a thrill when confronted with danger. First his desire, and then his love for Bane made him realise that when it came to it, he could deny Bane nothing.

"You could." John replied, hoarsely. "But we'd just have to come back tomorrow for a bed. Or we could pick one now, and we can try it our later."

Bane withdrew his hand. "Later." He promised, his eyes dark with lust.

He knew that Bane would be able to restrain himself, at least for now, giving them time to buy their new bed, and that as soon as they got home, and assembled it, Bane would make good on that promise.

John nodded his understanding, and they got out of the car, entering the store. Inside, Bane was immediately distracted by the sheer vastness of the store, as well as the wide variety of items to buy. It reminded John that Bane had probably never been somewhere this size, that this must be entirely new for him. He'd definitely never done something as domesticated as buying a new bed.

Luckily, the huge store had clear signs, so John was able to lead them to the beds without any difficulty. There was a rather large selection, and John was a little lost as to where to begin looking.

"What about this one?" He suggested, tentatively, flopping on the display mattress roughly, in order to test the strength of the frame.

Bane eyed it suspiciously. He reached out and applied a small amount of force to the frame, releasing it when it made a horrendous creaking noise. "Perhaps something more durable." He suggested.

John glanced around. "Let's try this one." He gestured at an oak frame.

To test it out, Bane gingerly sat down on the bed John gestured too. To his surprise, it held his weight easily. He bounced a little, careful not to cause any damage, but all in all, the bed seemed steady. John moved to the other side, sitting down on the bed.

"This one, then?" John asked.

Bane nodded. "This one seems acceptable. It should hold my weight and yours without any issues."

John made a note of the item number and shelf. "Okay. Let's head through to the warehouse then. We can pick up a trolley there."

They found it easily; John checked the item and shelf number twice, before realising their major difficulty – there was no way they were going to get this in his car. He voiced this to Bane, who paused, surveying the flat-pack.

"We'll need to hire a van." John sighed. "Bane, what are you doing?" He frowned, the larger man's movements catching his eye.

Bane had taken off his wristband, removing the canisters to check how much morphine he had left. He calculated that he had enough. He reattached the band, quickly. Bending his knees, he grabbed the flat-pack, testing its weight. It wasn't exactly light, but Bane had carried heavier and for longer.

"Are you capable of assembling this yourself?" He asked John, who nodded. "Good. Then if you drive home, I shall carry it."

John shook his head quickly. "No, don't be stupid. That's ridiculously heavy. You can't possibly carry that back on your own."

Bane shot him a disbelieving glare. "John, if you tempt me, I shall carry it home over one shoulder while I carry you over the other."

"Okay." John surrendered quickly. "If you're sure you can manage it."

"I am sure, little bird." Bane told him. "Come. We should pay and leave. The sooner our bed is assembled, the sooner we can use it."

They paid and left, Bane drawing stares from everyone he passed. People were ogling his muscles, pulled taut with the weight of the flat-pack. It was an unbelievable display of strength.

John slid into the car, starting the engine and pulling up alongside Bane. "Are you sure you don't want to try and strap it to the top of the car?"

Bane, looking amused, didn't reply.

"I just feel like it's a shitty thing to do, leaving you to carry that home alone." John ran his hand through his hair, frustrated.

Bane sighed. "Go home, John. It's not far. I'll be there in about five minutes."

He hoisted the flat-pack up onto his shoulder, and started walking, leaving John no choice but to drive on. He sighed, shaking his head at his lover's stubbornness, but drove off nonetheless. It was the last time he'd make Bane accompany him when furniture shopping. Next time they'd do it online and have it delivered.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**Day Nine: Hanging Out With Friends**

* * *

John yawned, rubbing the back of his head sleepily. It had been a nice nap; spending his nights as a vigilante was tiring. He dressed again, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans before heading down to the kitchen, intent on getting a glass of water, possibly some food, and hopefully finding Bane on the way.

When he entered the kitchen, he found Bane, but he wasn't alone. He grinned at the extra guest.

"Barsad." He greeted, casually.

"Robin. You look good." Barsad winked, grinning when John glared at him. He knew Barsad only persisted in using his given name to annoy him. He'd used John for as long as he could remember.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, rudely, stomping past him to get a drink, only pausing to smile shyly at Bane, who returned the gesture fondly.

Barsad raised an eyebrow but John didn't notice. "Anyone would think I wasn't welcome."

John snorted. "And if you weren't, you'd still be here anyway."

Bane chuckled and Barsad shot him a wounded look, but they both knew it was faked. "He has a point."

John grinned triumphantly, and poured himself some cereal. He was hungry, but it was too early to eat a proper meal. He would eat shortly before the Commissioner arrived. It was bound to be a tense evening.

"So why are you here? You don't visit often enough, by the way. Bane misses you." John told Barsad between mouthfuls, ignoring the warning look Bane shot him. "He gets grouchy when you don't check in for weeks."

Barsad smiled enigmatically. "I hear the Commissioner is coming by this evening?"

Not following the change of subject, John nodded slowly. "Yes. He likes to check on Bane and uses the pretence of visiting me to ensure that I haven't been murdered in my bed." At Barsad's disapproving frown, he sighed. "Look, I can't say I blame him. Not everyone is as forgiving about the man who almost destroyed Gotham. Technically, he should have arrested Bane on sight, but instead he settles on monthly visits. It's not an inconvenience having him here. We just play cards, have a few drinks."

Barsad nodded. "Room for one more?" He asked casually. Almost _too_ casually.

John stiffened. "That's why you're here? To make sure Gordon doesn't suddenly change his mind and arrest Bane?" He shot an angry look at his lover. "Did you know about this?"

"I suspected." Bane admitted. "He did not like the idea that the Commissioner is planning to retire, and that his replacement may not honour Gordon's agreement."

"He's retiring?" John was surprised. "No, wait, stop trying to distract me. Don't play me for a fool." He snapped at Barsad. "Stop trying to get invited and just tell me you're staying! If Bane's at risk, then we _need_ you here. Or don't you trust me to do the right thing where Bane is concerned?"

Barsad blinked at the vehemence of John's words. "Ah, Robin, if you do not want to be baited, you shouldn't make it so fun for me to do so." He grinned briefly, before leaning forward, lowering his tone in a sinister manner. "And if I did not trust you to do the right thing for Bane, then he would not be here, and neither would you."

John knew better than anyone what Barsad was capable of, as the months he'd spent in Bane's captivity had led him to cross paths with the mercenary more than once. However, he also knew that Barsad trusted him and wouldn't hurt him and not only because Bane would never allow it. That knowledge was the only thing that stopped John from shuddering at the barely concealed threat. There was a mutual respect between them, and a light flirtation on occasion that never really came to fruition, but it amused Bane greatly.

He nodded at Barsad's words, taking a bite of his cereal. "Duly noted."

The Commissioner arrived punctually, but seemed surprised of Barsad's presence, and a little wary. John was amused. Bane could crush him easily if he was so inclined, but Gordon was only scared when both of them were together.

"Drink, Commissioner?" Barsad asked, casually. "I'm not sure we've been formally introduced."

He was baiting Gordon, and both of them knew it. Gordon fixed him with a cold stare, but Barsad stared back, unflinchingly.

"I'm not sure how much more formally we could be introduced, considering you personally led me at gunpoint to that sham of a trial." The corner of Jim's mouth twitched, tensely.

Barsad inclined his head and relaxed fractionally. "True. Barsad." He offered his hand.

"Jim Gordon." The Commissioner took it without hesitation, but John could tell without close inspection that the grip had been biting.

"So I hear you're thinking of retiring?" John sat down at the table, next to Gordon. Bane took the other unoccupied seat opposite him, his movements slow in an attempt to make Gordon feel a little more at ease. He was always on edge during his visits, almost as if he expected Bane to snap at any moment.

The Commissioner glanced up in shock. "How do you know that? It's not public knowledge yet."

John raised his eyebrow and glanced between Bane and Barsad. Gordon sighed, acknowledging the stupidity of his words.

"Yes. Michael Akins is in line for the job. He's a good man. Honest." He told them, warily. "This is all strictly off the record, of course. He's been made aware of your presence in Gotham, as has the Mayor. Nothing will change once my retirement comes through."

Barsad's shoulders lost some of their tension as Gordon assured them that Bane would remain safe when the new Commissioner took over. John had no doubt, however, that he'd made note of the name Michael Akins and would run a thorough background check on him before accepting Gordon's words.

"Shall we play?" Bane raised his eyebrow, gesturing to the untouched cards in the middle of the table. Barsad reached for them, deftly shuffling the pack, his hands moving rapidly.

"I've had practice." He explained at John's impressed look.

Bane inclined his head. "He has had a significant amount of practice. At cheating." He added.

Barsad frowned. "I have never cheated at cards in my life." He snapped, affronted.

John grinned. "Shall we play in pairs? The Commissioner and I against you and Barsad?" He asked Bane.

Barsad grinned, his abrupt return to good humour surprising. "What, you mean like old times? Gotham's Police Department vs. the League of Shadows?"

"That's not funny." John told him, coldly. "And hardly accurate. I'm not a cop anymore."

"I understand, Robin, it must be a little difficult to remain a detective when you've settled down with the man who rightfully should be top of Gotham's Most Wanted." Barsad agreed, slyly.

"That's enough." Bane thundered suddenly, making all of them jump, especially Gordon, who got to his feet, fully prepared to defend himself. "Barsad, either bite your tongue or lose it. Deal the cards. John, stop making it so easy for him to bait you. Commissioner," Gordon flinched. "Do sit down."

He reluctantly did so. Barsad begrudgingly dealt the cards, his expression sullen but obedient. The atmosphere was tense, and John knew that, if Barsad did truly cheat, it was only set to get worse. He'd need to have a word with Gordon about the new Commissioner perhaps extending the visits to once every two months. He was sure that Gordon's hair was looking greyer than when he arrived. As it was, John vowed never to let Barsad in the same room as Gordon again if he could help it. Though he considered both of them his friends, it was probably wise to keep them separate at all times, if only for the good of their combined health.

And just see if he let Barsad in the apartment again for at least six months. Maybe that would teach the annoying mercenary to never call him Robin again.

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**All reviews appreciated, lovely readers XD**


	10. On Holiday

**Day Ten: On Holiday**

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"So what made you pick Tibet of all places?" John asked, curiously. He'd been bugging Bane to go on a holiday for months now, and the larger man had never seemed keen. Last week, he'd suddenly changed his mind, roughly around the time John announced that he intended to pick up Bruce's mantle and take over as Batman. John wasn't so naïve not to realise that Bane's sudden desire to leave Gotham was related to his decision, but he couldn't work out why he'd insisted on Tibet.

"You are set on your desire to become Gotham's protector?" Bane asked him, his grey-green eyes fixed on John.

John swallowed; unnerved by the intense look that Bane was giving him. "Yeah. I figure someone's always out to get Gotham, and the city needs someone to protect it."

Bane inclined his head. "As I thought. Then you will require training. Bruce himself was trained by the League of Shadows, by Ra's al-Ghul himself."

John nodded slowly. "But weren't you trained by the League of Shadows? Couldn't you train me?"

A small smile made its way onto Bane's face. "I regret to admit that I would kill you before I could train you, little bird. I am forced to take other measures."

They carried on climbing the rest of the mountain, John panting as they finally reached the top. His eyes fell on a familiar figure. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." He groaned.

Bane smiled as he greeted Barsad. "It is good to see you, brother."

"And you, brother. You too, Robin." Barsad smirked.

John nodded, curtly. "You couldn't have asked him to come to Gotham?" He asked Bane, disbelievingly.

Barsad laughed. "I know you've missed me, really." He winked. "But whatever he would have you believe, you are not the only reason Bane is here. As Talia's protector, he became leader of the League upon her death."

"I am not here to claim my leadership." Bane replied sharply. "I am here to oversee John's training, as I cannot train him myself."

Barsad looked at him seriously. "You intend to ask me to train him, and I'm fully aware that you trust me like you do few others. You use his training as an excuse to return to the only place you've ever considered a home."

"Maybe once." Bane growled, angrily. "But my home is with John now, in Gotham. You would be wise to hold your tongue, Barsad." He turned on his heel and walked towards the building, furious.

John made to go after him, but Barsad stopped him with a slight shake of his head. "Returning here brings back memories of Talia and his excommunication at the hands of her father. He will want to be alone. Come, John. We will begin your training."

"Now?" John replied, dismayed. "I've just trekked up a huge mountain. Can't I at least sit down first?"

Barsad eyed him, with a hint of disapproval. "Very well. I assumed you were stronger than that." He turned away.

John frowned, feeling slightly out of sorts by Barsad's behaviour. "Okay, okay. Let's go then."

With a brief nod, Barsad led him into the temple. "While we are here, Robin, I'm not your friend, nor your comrade. I am your instructor and you are my pupil. Is that understood?"

Nodding, John felt a little out of sorts. He hadn't been expecting this. He'd left Gotham under the assumption that he and Bane would be going on holiday to Tibet. Now he was expected to train with Barsad, all the while acting like he didn't know him.

"Good. You may call me 'master'." Barsad told him, solemnly.

John opened his mouth to reply in the affirmative, although secretly resenting the power Barsad would have over him, when Bane appeared behind Barsad, frowning.

"Do not tease him, brother. John is here for training, not to be mocked." He chastised.

Barsad bowed his head in assent. "Fine. You don't have to call me master. Just Barsad will do." He grinned. "And I suppose you could consider us friends, although I judge from your expression that you're more likely to try and kill me that way. Go and get some rest, Robin, we'll start you training tomorrow at first light."

John's expression was priceless. He blushed, gritting his teeth as he glared at Barsad with unconcealed anger at being made fun of, which only served to make Barsad chuckle.

He turned and stomped away, intent on getting as far away from Barsad as possible before he did something stupid like punched him in the face. "Some holiday this turned out to be." He muttered, and the sound of laughter behind him let him know that his comment had been overheard. Next time, they were going to Spain, and by then he'd be well equipped to drag Bane there himself if necessary.

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**Please review XD**


	11. Drunk

**Day Eleven: Drunk**

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Bane set the bottle down in front of him. Forgoing a glass, John just took a long gulp of neat vodka straight from the bottle, barely noticing the burn. He hissed and swore loudly as Bane used the alcohol to clean the wound in his bicep. "That fucking hurts." He grumbled, fighting the urge to tear his arm away.

"Of course it does. You were shot." Bane told him, his tone expressionless. That tone alone caused John to freeze. Bane only ever concealed his emotions when they were threatening to overwhelm him. He stayed quiet as Bane wrapped a bandage around his injured arm, taping it securely in place. Even when the wound had been treated, Bane's lack of emotion was still present, but John couldn't work out what it was that was crackling in the air.

He broke the silence hesitantly. "Bane…"

Bane dropped the tape, his eyes burning, and John just had time to grab the bottle of vodka from the table before Bane overturned it with an angry cry. John watched in terror as the table cracked and split into pieces from the sheer force it had hit the floor. He knew Bane had a temper, a ruthless streak. He'd seen it before more than once. It had never been aimed at him, though.

"What…?" He began again.

Bane glared at him. "You are _hurt_. Do you have any idea how I feel at this moment, John? Your reckless behaviour has made you complacent. I did not have the League train you for you to be so careless with your life!" He thundered, and John winced at the tone. He couldn't deny the words; he'd been so confident in his abilities that he'd made a reckless move, dashing into a dark alley with no regards for his safety. Thankfully, Bane had been right behind him, and pulled John to one side, ensuring that the bullet only nicked him.

"I'm sorry." He bowed his head, but Bane wouldn't listen to him.

"You could have been killed! In fact, you _would_ have been killed had I not been there." Bane told him, angrily. "It appears your Mr Wayne made an error in judgement. You are not ready to take on the role of Gotham's protector."

The words pierced John to the core, and he couldn't bear to hear any more. He raced out of his apartment, intent on getting as far away from Bane as he possibly could. John knew his lover was right, that he'd made a rookie mistake that had almost cost him his life. He didn't stop running until he was a few blocks away from his apartment, and the white noise in his ears subsided. He arrived at Gotham Police Headquarters, and climbed the fire escape on the outside of the building, swiftly making his way to the roof, settling down by the Bat Signal and swigging from the bottle still in his hands.

"John?"

John turned around. "Commissioner." He acknowledged dully, taking another drink. "What are you doing up here?"

Gordon smiled at him. "I could ask you the same question, son, but I think I can guess the answer. Troubles at home?"

John laughed bitterly. "You could say that." He put the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink, coughing at the burn in his throat. "It was my fault. I did something stupid, and he got so _angry_. I just couldn't bear to stick around and see him like that. I ran out, and ended up here."

Another drink saw the bottle half-empty and a pleasant buzz beginning to descend upon him. Jim just approached him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to take the bottle of vodka. "I promise you, John, drinking yourself into a coma is not the answer. I might not trust Bane, but I know he switched sides because of you. He cares for you, and I'm fairly sure he's worried about you right now. Come on. I'll take you home."

John didn't relinquish his grip on the vodka, nor did he stop drinking, but he did let the Commissioner pull him to his feet, leading him slowly towards the building. John wondered why they weren't going down the fire escape, considering it was quicker. He snorted to himself as he realised that Gordon probably figured he was too drunk to climb down with any safety. Rolling his eyes at the though, John allowed himself to be escorted through the building, down the stairs and towards Gordon's car.

The entire journey home, John avoided all questions, including the ones about his bandage, and just drank the rest of the vodka. He was furious when Gordon locked him in the car, knocking on the apartment door and returning with Bane, who pulled John out of the car gently.

"I sincerely apologise, Commissioner." Bane ducked his head. "This will not happen again, I assure you."

Gordon smiled. "I've got no problems with you sitting by the Bat signal, John. Just leave it for when you're sober, son."

He drove away, leaving John and Bane standing on the sidewalk, staring at each other. Before either of them could speak, John doubled over, vomiting everywhere. His expression unchanging, Bane picked him up, carrying him back into the apartment and to the bathroom, where John began throwing up over the bowl with gusto. Bane stroked his hair until he was done, and then fetched him a glass of water, which John gulped down greedily.

"I'm sorry." He said hoarsely. "I'm sorry I let you down and I made you angry."

"I was not angry at you, little bird. I was angry that someone almost took you away from me, and I took that anger out on you." Bane replied quietly. "You were reckless, but you are not usually so. I did not mean to imply that you were not ready to take on the task in front of you. You are the person most suited to protect the city you love. Bruce Wayne chose well. But you must exercise more care."

He rose to his feet, suddenly, pressing a kiss to John's forehead. "Come, little bird. Sleep now."

John felt his lover tug at his arm, leading him to bed. He followed, obediently, undressing and slipping under the cool sheets, laying his head on the soft pillow. He felt Bane slide in next to him, and comforted by his presence, John drifted off to sleep.

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